


Kingsman: Pretty Far From Angelic

by Milliadoc_Brandybuck



Category: Kingsman (Movies), The Gentlemen (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Banter, Cars, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Desk Sex, F/M, Kingsman: The Secret Service, London, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Kingsman: The Secret Service, Prequel, Spies & Secret Agents, Strong Female Characters, Weapons, Welsh Character, Women Being Awesome, Women In Power, Women in the Military, Women of Kingsman
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:28:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22254154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milliadoc_Brandybuck/pseuds/Milliadoc_Brandybuck
Summary: Eiddwen Tirion, aka Nimue, and Layla Middleton, aka Guinevere, are two female Kingsman agents in a mans world. The worst part? They don't even particularly like each other. But, at the end of the day, all girls have got to stick together. They're like Charlie's Angels, but deadlier and much more badass: these women are pretty far from angelic.
Relationships: Gary "Eggsy" Unwin/Original Female Character(s), Raymond (Gentlemen)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 19





	1. Episode 1: The Red Dragon (Pt. 1)

Nimue had been a good agent. 

She had lived by the rules and she had died well: if only she had seen death coming.

Now there was nothing more to be said. 

What was left of her was cremated, as was protocol, and now the remaining Kingsman were left with a dilemma. Who would replace such a productive agent, and who the fuck was going to design the weapons now?

As was protocol all remaining agents would now put forward candidates for her replacement and they would fight it out for the chance to become one of England’s best-kept secret. Whoever it was would have to have a sense of style, a strong knowledge of weaponry, wiring and know how to kill someone swiftly and effectively. Merlin knew just the woman for the job. 

If only she didn’t live in the middle of the fucking nowhere in the bit of Wales nobody could pronounce on a motherfucking sheep farm. What. a. stereotype. Merlin looked around him at endless fields of sheep shit and clicked a button on the side of his glasses to scan the information it gave him. Yhup, he was in the right place. He sighed heavily and vaulted the fence. He didn’t do field work, everybody knew that. Especially in an actual field. Merlin surveyed the sheep as they judged him through the dusk. He was dressed all wrong for this. He had been a Kingsman for twenty five years and in all that time he had only been to the field a handful of times. The last time he had been out properly had been 1997, ten years ago almost to the day, and he had seen his good friend Lee Unwin literally blown up before him. That was enough to make anyone retreat to a desk and never look back.

But the position of Nimue was important and he knew he had to at least try. He waded through the mud and shit until he was within a reasonable distance of the lone farmhouse that stood in the centre of these fields. The lights were on in a handful of windows but there was no sign of life from inside. Merlin narrowed his eyes suspiciously, always on guard, and looked off to the side. There was a barn to the side of the main farmhouse and from inside he could hear the thumping beat of music playing loud. He wasn’t sure but he suspected the beats were punctuated with gunshots. Merlin cleared his throat and approached the front door, thinking that safest. He rapped his knuckles curtly on the peeling paint. There was a pause and then a middle-aged woman answered, her brown hair curled up in a stylish hairstyle that really did not fit in with this ‘middle of nowhere’ aesthetic. 

“What?” The woman asked rudely, her thick Welsh accent curling her lip. Merlin swallowed hard: this woman looked just like her. 

“Sorry to disturb so late,” Merlin’s scottish accent deflected her own. He switched on the charm as was the custom of his profession, “I’m looking for Eiddwen Tirion.” He really hoped he had pronounced her name right, the last thing he needed was to piss off her mum. 

“Eiddie?” The woman looked Merlin up and down, taking in his suit and his smart glasses. “What do you want her for?” The woman’s perfectly mannecured hands drummed on the door. 

“It’s a matter of recruitment, ma’am.” Merlin could not say more than that. 

Mrs. Tirion pursed her lips and then nodded in the direction of the barn. “Probably shooting the shit out of the hay bales. Go in at your own risk.” 

“Thank you.” Merlin nodded his head, “For your hospitality.” Before he could finish Mrs. Tirion had shut the door in his face. Merlin pursed his lips and rolled his eyes. It could be because he never really actually spoke to anyone but he hoped Eiddwen would be more accomodating. He straightened his jacket and turned to the barn, wondering how he was going to get out of this without being shot full of holes. She was quick and that’s why he was here. He cleared his throat and lifted his watch so he could see the face better. With a flurry of his fingers he hacked the electrical mainframe of the house and managed to shut off the music within the barn. Seconds later another welsh voice from inside shouted, “What the fuck?!” Merlin smiled. Eiddwen had not changed one bit. Merlin approached the barn door and knocked.

“Fuck off mam.” Eiddwen shouted back, her words puncutated with thumps to the stereo.

“Not your mother.” Merlin said, sliding the door open a little. “And hitting that won’t help.” He held his hands up in surrender as he came face to face with a loaded rifle. “Nice to see you Private.” 

Eiddwen Tirion was a young woman of nineteen years of age. She had the same brown hair as her mother but hers was tied up in a messy bun about her young freckled face. Merlin knew her from his days covering a colleague moonlighting as a Sergeant to gain intel. He had been beyond impressed by Eiddwen’s skills with anything ballistic: guns, canons, words. She didn’t lower the rifle as she looked him up and down as though fighting something internal. Then her training took over and she stood to attention, her rifle disengaged and over her shoulder in a flurry of fingers. He waved his hand for her to drop her salute. 

“At ease.” He said lazily. 

“What are you doing here?” She demanded. A flicker of fear passed through her eyes. Merlin clenched his jaw, knowing from her file where that had come from.

“I heard you got dismissed. I’m sorry.” He shut the barn door behind him with a clunk and stepped into the light of her makeshift shooting range. She pursed her lips.

“You came all this way to talk about my mental health?” She asked, putting down the rifle and pulling her hair from its bun, letting it tumble down her back in curls. He had never seen the kid out of uniform. As she stood before him in her high-buttoned trousers and striped t-shirt she looked so out of place in a barn in Wales. 

“No. I came to offer you a job.” Merlin folded his arms. Eiddwen frowned at him. 

“A job?” She blinked at him. “Sir, you know I was dismissed on medical grounds, right? I’m not fit for service. Not without putting myself and others at risk.” She sighed heavily and Merlin could hear the pain in her voice. “I can’t return to service.”

“With the artillery.” He reminded her. She frowned at him. “I’m not here about the army.”

The confusion on her face forced him to unfold his arms. “Eiddwen. I’m about to tell you something that must be kept secret. Can I trust you?”

Eiddwen’s intrigue reached up and nodded her head before she could stop it. Merlin smiled and stepped closer to her. 

“My name isn’t really Sergeant Watson. I’m not even military personnel. I was undercover when we met.” Merlin said. Eiddwen frowned. “My name is Hamish Mycroft, but I’m better known as Merlin.”

“Undercover?” Eiddwen raised an eyebrow. 

“Aye.” Merlin replied. “I work for a secret organisation.”

“Like MI6?”

“Better.” He pulled a card out of his pocket and held it out to her. She hesitated before taking it. 

“Kingsman?” She asked before meeting his eye. “You have a card?”

“I very rarely get to use it.” He smirked and gestured for her to keep it when she tried to hand it back. 

“So it’s like a spy thing?” She tucked the card into her pocket.

“We prefer secret service.” 

“Wait. A job?” Eiddwen was sure her mother was going to burst at any second and tell her it was April Fools Day or something. “What does your secret service want with me? I’m nothing special.”

“Eiddwen,” Merlin shook his head incredulously, “You’re very special.”

“I’m a dismissed, disgraced ex-armourer with shitty mental health and a six-month-old gunshot wound in my stomach.” Eiddwen tucked her hands into her pocket. “I’m so fucking far from special.”

“What I just heard is you’re intelligent, hard-working, you’ve overcome some shit and you survived.” Merlin said softly.

Eiddwen frowned at him. She had to admit she was tempted. “What would I be doing in this job?”

“Our weapons specialist passed away.” Merlin said heavily. “I want to put you forward as a candidate for the position.”

Eiddwen stared at him. “For a job that has just killed the poor son of a bitch?”

“The job didn’t kill Nimue.”

“Christ she’s called Nimue? That’s the role?” She felt the card in her pocket. “You guys like your legend, huh?”

“Gives it a certain sense of je ne sais qui.” Merlin chuckled.“I can’t think of anyone better to embody the Lady of the Lake then an actual welshwoman.”

“Evidently. Or you wouldn’t have come all the way out here to Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch.” She said it effortlessly and Merlin had to paint himself impressed. “You know the Lady of the Lake was from the Lake District, right?”

“Wherever she’s from,” Merlin knew she was deflecting, “I want to propose you for the role.”

“What does that mean?” Eiddwen folded her arms tightly. No matter how tempted she was it didn’t change the fact that she was fucked in the head. 

“It means you’ll come with me to our headquarters in England. You’ll go through a series of trials and training tasks against those proposed by my colleagues.”

“What kind of trials?”

“I can’t tell you that. But I know you to be capable of them.”

“Maybe once. Not anymore.” Eiddwen shook her head. 

“Our weaknesses only make us stronger.” Merlin said kindly. He was very aware of just how bad her mental health had been after she had been shot, and how much of a toll it had taken on her family. 

Eiddwen stared at him. “And if I fail these trials?”

“Eiddwen,” He said with truth lining his voice, “I’ve never known anyone to know a weapon like you. You’re smart. We could use you. You won’t fail. I should know, I design the damn trials.” Eiddwen raised an eyebrow. He had basically just told her she had the job and the trials were simply to keep face. “You will become Nimue and part of the best kept secret in Her Majesty’s great country.” Merlin explained. 

Eiddwen looked around her at the barn in which they stood. She knew she couldn’t stay here forever, and this was too good an opportunity to pass up on. She turned to Merlin, her face set, and nodded. 

“Alright Merlin,” She said, “I’m in.” 


	2. Episode 1: The Red Dragon (Pt. 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eiddwen begins her recruitment interview for Kingsman.

The trials had been gruelling. Eiddwen had never been very good at people skills. She had always been shy and so making friends was never going to be her strong point. The other candidates were far more showy than she, and all of them were posh toffs from Oxbridge or Surrey. Eiddwen felt very out of place with her thick accent and shakes. But she perservered and consistently proved that she deserved to be there. There were six of them on trial to begin with. One was sent home on the first day when he had damn near cut off his finger whilst loading a rifle. Eiddwen had loaded, cocked and unloaded it successfully in, according to Merlin and his stopwatch, record time.

In the second trial they had to prove how quickly they could find their way out of a treacherous situation with the least casualties. All but Eiddwen forgot to think of the team. Another candidate had been rendered unconscious by the situation and Eiddwen had remained as calm as possible, helping him out. He quit as soon as he came around. Eiddwen had forced herself to relive all of her military training to get her and the other candidate out only to be rewarded with desertion. She made enemies when the dreams returned and she was forced to relive her military career, crying out in the middle of the night and alienating her bunkmates. Merlin kept a close eye on her but she showed strength of character by perservering. 

They were told to choose a puppy to care for. Eiddwen had chosen the welsh border collie bitch she was sure had been planted for her by Merlin. She named it Tarran and instantly the dog worked wonders on Eiddwen’s mental state. She was effortless to train and provided Eiddwen with a companion when the paranoia got too much. 

_ Laughing, singing to the radio. Driving through intensive desert for miles. This was a routine scout and there had never been anything before. It was hot, her uniform clung to her as she perspired.  _

_ There was a shout, and then a scream. The jeep rolled and Eiddwen was thrown. Explosions. Disorientation. More shouting. The communications went dead.  _

_ Shouting. Being told to get on her knees. Eiddwen refused and grabbed for her gun. Gunfire. Anguish.  _

_ Eiddwen felt a seering pain in her stomach. Blackness. _

It was at dawn that Eiddwen’s cries echoed through the dormitory. She sat bolt upright, drenched in sweat, with her hand clamped on the part of her stomach where the bullet had made an impact. It took her a moment to orientate herself back in the room. She looked into the darkness of the room to find the remaining three candidates staring at her with anger in their faces.

“Jesus. She’s mental.” One of them grumbled.

Eiddwen forced herself to breathe and shut out the noise in her head. Tarran placed her head reassuringly on Eiddwen’s lap and she scratched her behind the ears. 

“How can she be a Kingsman when she’s scared of her own shadow.” Another griped. 

Eiddwen swung her legs out of bed and padded to the bathroom. She was fully dressed, all the better to be on guard, in her dogtooth high-waisted trousers and black shirt. Tarran followed loyally at her heels. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and ran her fingers over her face, urging herself to calm down and focus. She was stronger than this.

They were summoned to the underground garage in the mid-morning. They had never been allowed in this part of the complex before. It was enormous and the cars and bikes it held were breathtaking, hundreds of years of motor history maticulously laid out for as far as the eye could see.

Merlin was waiting for them in the centre of the complex. He held his usual clipboard and was standing beside a young woman.

The woman was not much older then Eiddwen by the look of her. She had dark brown hair in a messy bun atop her head and was dressed smartly in a white blouse and plaid trousers. The trainers on her feet were recognisable almost instantly as louboutins to those who knew the brand. So the job paid well. Her dark blue eyes surveyed them sceptically behind her tortoiseshell glasses and she too held a clipboard. 

“Candidates.” Merlin said. “May I introduce you to Guinevere. She is our agent in charge of mechanics and vehicles. I’ll hand you over to her.” Merlin gave Eiddwen a flicker of a look that made her think he had seen her breakdown this morning. 

“Candidates.” She spoke with a hint of South London and Eiddwen got the impression Guinevere was hiding behind a facade. “I will be running you each through an advanced driving regime today. Being a Kingsman requires a great deal of adaptablility and skill. You must be able to think on your feet, or in this case at the wheel.” Eiddwen wondered how long this woman had been a Kingsman. She hardly looked old enough. “One by one you’ll be taking out one of our cars. I trust you all have a valid driving licence?” There was an answering murmur from the candidates as they nodded. “Good. Brooklyn, you will be going first. The rest of you may wait in the bunker.” 

With that Guinevere turned on her heel with Brooklyn on her heels, but not until she had given Eiddwen one last lingering look. Eiddwen wasn’t sure what that look meant but she was sure she would find out soon enough. 

Eiddwen was called for her lesson as she was walking Tarran outside the perimeter. Guinevere was a woman Eiddwen could tell took no prisoners. 

“It’s Eiddwen, yeah?” Guinevere asked. She pronounced it wrong: as though with ‘d’. 

“Eiddwen.” Eiddwen corrected: pronouncing the ‘th’ sound she had needed to fix her whole life. 

“Apologies.” Guinvere said. She wasn’t much taller than Eiddwen but her aura of authority made her seem twice the size. 

“Don’t mention it. Everyone gets it wrong.” Eiddwen replied sourly. They had stopped by a stunning Jaguar. Eiddwen stared at it. 

“You’ve driven before?” Guinevere asked. She was presenting herself as though she did an office job but Eiddwen noticed the grime beneath her fingers. So she wasn’t afraid to get dirty. 

“Not for a long time. Unless you count the tractor.” 

“Yes, Merlin told me you were the country type.” Guinevere clicked a key and the Jaguar unlocked. “I should imagine this will be quite different.” 

“You want me to drive that?” Eiddwen asked incredulously. 

“I would.” Guinevere replied. She handed Eiddwen the key. “And don’t fuck it up in the process.” 

_ No pressure,  _ Eiddwen thought. She breathed out shakily and opened the drivers door. Guinevere made no move to follow. “You’re not coming.”

“I want to see how you do alone.” Guinevere stepped back from the car and looked down at the electronic clipboard in her arms. “There’s a course just outside those doors.” She clicked something and the doors slid open. “All you have to do is just get round it quicker than the boys, without dying or crashing my car.”

Eiddwen got the impression it was a lot more difficult than ‘just’ that. She told Tarran to stay beside Guinevere and shut herself into the driver's seat. Her eyes glazed over the leather interior. She wasn’t one for cars normally but this was a sexy motherfucker. She started the engine and it purred into life. She watched as Guinevere clicked her stopwatch.  _ Shit _ , Eiddwen thought,  _ that made it much worse.  _ She wondered how long this course would take and decided she had best get a move on. She put her foot down on the accelerator and the car shot out of the garage like a bullet. 

Guinevere narrowed her eyes at the sound of the car as it was forced forwards. Merlin had only spoken highly of Eiddwen but personally Guinevere had not yet seen it. She looked down at the data on her clipboard in order to see whether the rookie was looking after her car. She seemed to be in good control. Maybe Guinevere was worried for no reason. The girl was in good control, and to be honest it would be nice to have another woman around. 

As it stood currently Guinevere was the only female Kingsman. Making her way in a man’s world had always come naturally. She had been raised by her dad, that’s why she knew so much about engines, in a rough area. She always found it easy to talk to the gruffer gender. She had never really got on well with women if truth be known. Maybe Eiddwen would be a turning point. She was certainly the favourite from what she had heard from Merlin, Galahad and Lancelot. But things could change in these trials. 

“How’s she doing?” Merlin asked in Guinevere’s ear. 

“She seems to be doing well.” Guinevere replied. 

“Time to take it up a notch?” Merlin suggested. 

“Received and understood.” Guinevere smirked. She didn’t need telling twice. After all that was the point of this third trial. She clicked a series of commands on her clipboard to force Eiddwen’s hand. 

Eiddwen was enjoying herself for the first time since she had started these damn trials. The car responded to each tiny movement and the course was a piece of piss. A bit of slalom, good manouevering on the corners, she was walking it. She rounded the fourth corner and that was when everything suddenly went wrong. 

The dial faded, the wheel turned of its own accord and the radio dropped in and out of sound. It was like the car had a mind of its own. Eiddwen’s brain went into overcompensating panic mode. 

“Hello?” She shouted after hitting the communication device on the dash. 

“Eiddwen.” Merlin’s scottish tones came through, “What is it?”

“I’m doing this advanced driving thing and the car has just gone mad.”

“It’s not responding?” Merlin asked, feigning worry in his voice. 

“No.” Eiddwen tried to turn the wheel again but it barely responded. “Shit, Merlin, if this is a test…” 

“It’s not a test.” Merlin lied as part of the test, “It must have been high-jacked. That’s the problem with these device-driven cars.”

“High-jacked?” Eiddwen shouted, “What the fuck?”

The radio crackled. “Listen, Eiddwen, I’ll send someone out to you but until then you’ve just got to…” The radio dropped out. 

“Merlin!?” Eiddwen shouted, panic rising more. The car was careening all over the track completely beyond Eiddwen’s control. She couldn’t think straight. Whereas a normal person would have hit the brakes and run from the car, Eiddwen’s fear took over her brain. Her heart hammering, she seized the wheel and yanked it as hard as she could to the left. The car spiralled out of control, spinning on the tarmac and then coming to rest halfway through a wall. 

Guinevere stared in disbelief at the cameras on her clipboard. “She’s crashed it.” She said quietly. 

“What!?” Merlin asked in horror. 

There was a heartstopping moment in which no movement came from the car. A door in the garage wall opened and Merlin hurried out to see what was happening. 

“Is she…?” He asked, craning to look at the camera feed. 

Another pause, and then the door to the smoking, crumpled Jaguar opened and Eiddwen dropped onto her knees on the grass, coughing and sobbing and struggling to breathe as she panicked. 

“She crashed my car.” Guinevere said incredulously. Her worry was rising with each breath. “She crashed my fucking car.” 

“The important thing is she’s alive.” Merlin said in an attempt to calm Guinevere. She was never good when she was angry. 

“Merlin!” She shouted, her accent changing, “She crashed my fucking car! All she had to do was pull the handbrake! I don’t know where you got this idiot from but I want her gone!” 

“Priorities.” Merlin reminded her as they watched Eiddwen get to her feet and stagger from the car. 

“I want her gone.” Guinevere pushed the clipboard into Merlin’s chest and stalked away, anger reverberating in her wake. 

Tarran whined in a concerned way as she rested against Merlin’s leg. Merlin looked down at the clipboard and pursed his lips. The last thing that was needed right now was this. 


	3. Episode 2: Bitches Be Crazy (Pt. 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a really long wait (sorry!) I have finally updated!! 
> 
> Eiddwen is the newest Kingsman recruit and she and Guinevere must iron out their differences in order to work together for the greater good.

“Congratulations.” Merlin said proudly as he presented Eiddwen with a pair of glasses. “Welcome to Kingsman.” 

Eiddwen: battered, bruised and still recovering from the ordeal with the car two weeks ago, stepped forwards to accept them. 

“I knew you’d do it, kid.” Merlin winked at Eiddwen and spoke under his breath. She smiled at him mildly and stepped backwards. Around her was assembled all members of Kingsman as it stood currently. Besides Merlin and a very angry, sour looking Guinevere there were the men Eiddwen now recognised as Lancelot, Galahad and Arthur himself. Eiddwen, being Welsh, had grown up with the tales of King Arthur and his Knights of the roundtable and found the whole thing amusing. 

“To Nimue!” Galahad said proudly, raising his glass. The sentiment was echoed around the room as they all toasted her. Even Guinevere did her duty, though her lips were pursed. She had been sour with Eiddwen ever since Eiddwen had crashed her precious car. 

_ Well,  _ Eiddwen thought as she drank her champagne,  _ if she was so precious about it then she shouldn’t use it in a trial.  _ She had a feeling she and Guinevere would not be the best of friends. 

Oh well. Nimue was more of a desk job anyway. She was in charge of weapon development, not human relations. Guinevere could hate her all she wanted. 

“I’ll show you to your office.” Merlin smiled at the newest Kingsman recruit. Guinevere glared at Eiddwen, but Eiddwen didn’t care. She wasn’t on trial anymore. She was a fully fledged member of Kingsman with as much authority as Guinevere. She didn’t need to be scared of her. She didn’t even particularly need to like her. 

Eiddwen followed Merlin down the hall to her office.  _ Her office.  _ She was no longer the former-bomb-disposal, PTSD-riddled farm-hand Eiddwen Tirion. Now she was Nimue, Kingsman agent. She knew she was going to like it here. 

However, despite Eiddwen’s attitude of ‘keep calm, ignore Guinevere and carry on’, it seemed Guinevere did not agree. Eiddwen tried and failed to be nice to her and so in the end, when there was no response, she simply gave up. Guinevere now just glared at her from afar. It didn’t affect Eiddwen’s duty one bit…

Until, on a mock mission, their rivalry had caused big problems for not only the mission, but their own lives and the integrity of Kingsman. Eiddwen’s PTSD had flared up at the sound of a bomb going off in the distance and Guinevere had lost her footing as Eiddwen fought to hide from her triggers. Their glasses had been smashed in the process and so they were seemingly on their own. 

As a result of their childish rivalry, Merlin had locked down the room. He would not let them leave until they had sorted out their problems. It was time they stopped acting like children and instead started acting like Kingsman. 

“Merlin!” Eiddwen pummeled her fists into the locked door as her glasses fluctuated in and out of focus. “Let us the fuck out of here!” 

“Because that’s going to work.” Guinevere scoffed.

“Not until you two learn what it means to play fair.” Merlin’s voice came through her glasses. 

“Fuck you!” Guinevere kicked the door.

“At last,” Harry, otherwise known as Galahad, chimed in, “For once you two agree on something.”

“You can’t keep us here forever you shits.” Eiddwen shouted. “If we’re not friends now we’re not going to be. Guinevere is too precious about her cars for that.” 

Layla, otherwise known as Guinevere, aimed a punch at Eiddwen that Eiddwen expertly dodged. 

“Best get a move on then, hadn’t you?” Merlin suggested. “Either that or battle it out with sparring fists.” He had noticed Guinevere’s punch and was clearly scowling from the tone of his voice. He disliked violence when unnecessary. 

“We’re not going to cooperate if you two are listening in.” Guinevere said as she slumped against the wall with her hands in her pockets. 

“Duly noted.” Harry said chirpily, “We’ll check in an hour from now shall we? We’ll have the clean up crew on standby incase you two do actually murder each other.” 

Their glasses both went dead. 

“Merlin?” Eiddwen pressed the button on her fuzzy glasses. Nothing. 

“Harry, I swear to God I will kill you.” Layla hissed. 

Eiddwen punched out at the door again and then turned to pace the floor like an animal in a cage. She was trying to stay calm, to contain her PTSD. 

“You make me dizzy when you do that.” Layla snarled as she picked her nails. 

“Come on then,” Eiddwen spat back at her, “We may as well get to the bottom of it. Why  _ do  _ you hate me so much? We’ve been colleagues for ages now. It can’t be just because I came in after you, or because I crashed your stupid car. You’re not that petty, surely.” 

“Don’t tell me what I am and what I’m not.” Layla replied. “You don’t know me.”

“Isn’t that the point of this?!” Eiddwen replied as she gestured around them. “To get to know each other. Iron out our differences.”

“Alright then.” Layla’s accent came out as she got annoyed, “You crashed my car.”

“What?!” Eiddwen let out an incredulous laugh, “It’s really because I crashed the car!! Are you two? You hate me because I crashed your car? Maybe you are as petty as I thought! You know you’ve got a garage full, right?”

“It’s not that you crashed it.” Layla shook her head, “It’s that you never apologised.”

“I’m sorry. Did you and Merlin apologise for the terror you put us all through in training?” Eiddwen folded her arms and scoffed.

“That’s our job, Eiddwen.” Layla replied coldly. “You wait until you have to train new recruits.” 

“It’s Nimue when we’re on Kingsman property.” Eiddwen corrected. “Because I’m now your colleague. And I’m sorry that I never apologised, but you could have said something rather than just hating me however many months I’ve been here!” 

“I could,” Layla shrugged, “But I didn’t. It’s not just that.” 

“Then what is it? I’m a nice person, Guinevere, I promise.” Eiddwen replied. “What else is there?”

“You’re arrogant. You muscle in without thinking, that’s why we don’t have you out on the field. Take today for instance.” Layla rolled her eyes. 

“Today was not my fault.” Eiddwen spat, “And it was a training exercise! You can’t pin that on me alone. And I’m sorry if I’m arrogant or whatever but at least I get shit done.” 

“It’s not always about that.” 

“I think you’re just coming up with excuses and really it’s just because you couldn’t cope with not being the new kid in town anymore.” Eiddwen shot at her. “Or the only woman?”

“You think I’m that petty?” Layla replied curtly.

“You’ve proved it time and time again.” Eiddwen folded her arms.

“Well why don’t you like me?” Layla demanded, “This is a two way street Eiddwen.” 

“Nimue.” Eiddwen corrected. “And I don’t know. Maybe because you’re always so stuck up, that the stick up your backside has a stick up its backside, that you’re always looking down on me or whatever. Just because you’re some toff.” 

“You think I look down on you?” Layla scoffed. “You know I’m from the wrong side of London, right? I was never given a chance.” Layla sank down the wall onto the floor and held her knees. It was the smallest Eiddwen had ever seen her. “Until Kingsman.” 

There was a long pause.

“What do you mean the wrong side of London?” Eiddwen asked, getting down onto the floor to sit opposite her, removing her heels to cross her legs. 

“I don’t talk like this for shits and giggles.” Layla replied in her natural accent. It felt weird to speak with it. Eiddwen let out a nervous giggle.

“That’s how you really talk?” She said incredulously. “I don’t know how I missed that, I’ll be honest.” She laughed and Layla smiled along with her. It was the first time they had ever shared a joke and it faded as quickly as it had started. “At least you can cover it well. I’m stuck sounding like a sheep-fucker for the rest of my life.”

“People like the Welsh accent though.” Layla said with a shrug. There was silence for a few moments. 

“Do you really hate me?” Eiddwen asked. Layla paused for a moment and then shook her head. 

“No. I guess I was a little jealous.” 

“You don’t have to be.” Eiddwen said. “I’m never gonna be in direct competition with you. I couldn’t do what you do.”

“Are you kidding? Any idiot can drive. I wouldn’t know the first thing about ballistics.” Layla offered. 

Eiddwen sighed, then scoffed. “Fuck Merlin and Harry. Why’d they have to be right?” 

“I know, right?” Layla replied. 

“I am sorry… about the car.” Eiddwen said. “It just…”

“I know about the PTSD and everything.” Layla said shyly, “It was on your file. I should have gone easier on you. I’m sorry too.”

Eiddwen smiled at her, a new level of understanding passing between them. 


End file.
